


My Name is Logan

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Parents, Reader-Insert, Transgender Child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 17:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11582565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: P.S. I start out using female pronouns, switch to gender-neutral when they are testing out the waters as the parents of a transgender child, and then finally I switched again to male pronouns.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	My Name is Logan

“Hello, Mrs. Reid?”

It was your 5-year-old daughter’s school nurse. “Yes, this is she. Is Allie okay?” 

Immediately, Spencer’s head snapped toward where you stood in the kitchen. “She okay?” He mouthed. 

“Yes, Allie is fine, Mrs. Reid. She just had an accident at school and needs a change of clothes,” the nurse said. 

The tension released from your chest and you assured the nurse that both you and your husband would be right over with a change of clothes. “She just had an accident,” you told him as you got off the phone. “Let’s go get her a new pair of clothes.”

Ever since Allie could express an opinion, she’d gravitated toward all things boy. She hated pink. Purple was okay on occasion. Dresses were a no go. Even as young as two, Barbies had their heads ripped off, and fire trucks were the best things in the world. Reaching into her dresser, you grabbed a pair of blue jeans, a Hulk t-shirt (the reason purple was sometimes okay was they were the color of Hulk’s shorts. And Daddy loved purple of course), plain white socks and underwear, and just in case the accident had been really bad, her new Captain America sneakers. 

Fifteen minutes later, you and your husband arrived at the school and headed to the nurse’s office. “Hey baby,” you said, bending down to kiss your daughter on the forehead. “What happened?”

“I couldn’t use the bathroom.” This had happened to you as a kid - a teacher wouldn’t let you use the bathroom and you pissed yourself. 

You stood up and started flailing as the nurse stepped outside to talk to the principal about something unrelated. “This is ridiculous. I’m gonna have to have a talk with the teacher or something, because this can’t happen again.”

“No, mommy,” she said softly, her eyes downcast as she spoke, “I couldn’t use the bathroom because I can’t use the boys’ bathroom and I don’t belong in the girls’ bathroom.”

You and Spencer looked at each other. Did your daughter just say what you thought she did? Spencer knelt down in front of her. “Do you want to use the boys’ bathroom?” he asked.

“I need to,” she said. “I’m a boy.”

That was definitely not something you had expected from your five-year-old, but you loved them no matter what. Still, you had to clarify. “How do you know?”

“How do you know you’re a girl, mommy?”

They had a point. “I just do,” you smiled.

“Me too,” they said. All of a sudden, tears started forming in your baby’s eyes. “Are you mad at me? Do you hate me?” You pride and joy looked between Spencer and yourself as their lip quivered.

Spencer crouched down so quickly you though he had fallen. “Listen to me,” he said softly. “Whether you are a girl or a boy doesn’t matter. You are our baby and we love you.”

“C-Can I be a boy then?” 

You looked at Spencer. This wouldn’t be easy. Not by a long shot. People had assumptions. Your child that you loved more than anything in this world was going to face prejudices from people that couldn’t or wouldn’t understand, but this was your child. You considered yourself a good mother and Spencer a good father. How could you say no? “We’ll test things out,” Spencer finally said, taking your baby’s hand. “So you say you’re a boy. What’s your name?”

“Logan,” he said.

“Okay, Logan,” you said, kissing your son on the forehead. “Now, Mommy and Daddy have been calling you Allie for five years, so if we mess up occasionally, just remind us you’re Logan.”

He nodded his head - his back straightening up in a way you never knew he needed until this moment. It was as if there was a wait lifted off your baby’s shoulders. “You need to answer to the name we gave you to everyone else for a while, until we start telling people you’re a boy.”

“Okay,” he said, his lips turning down for a moment. He really didn’t like being called Allie - and now you felt guilty that you’d saddled your child with a name that made him uncomfortable. “Do you think anyone else will hate me? Uncle Derek? Auntie Penelope?”

“Never,” Spencer said, bringing his son into his arms. “I won’t lie to you. There are some people in the world who don’t understand. You know that right? That’s why you were afraid to say something to us? Because you thought we wouldn’t understand?” Logan nodded his head. “Well I won’t lie, some people won’t understand, but the people that matter to you, like your aunts and uncles and grandma and grandpa, all those people will love you no matter what.”

After taking the change of clothes, Logan emerged looking just like and yet so different from the child you’d known for the past six years. You had your suspicions, but chalked them up to having a tomboy for a child, not an actual boy, but here he was, finally “out” to his parents and he looked the happiest you’d ever seen him. 

You both exchanged a worried glance, not for anything but the opposition your baby would face, but your child would never feel unloved, unwanted or broken as long as you both lived. Bending down, you both gave him a hug and told him to be good in class and respond to his birth name until you told him otherwise. “Be good, Logan,” Spencer smiled, holding up his hand for a high-five.

—-

The first people you told about your son were your parents and Spencer’s mother - all of whom said they had a feeling. Logan’s friends were all boys, and his aversion to girl things was so strong it raised a flag. On top of that, your mother had once seen Logan stuff a sock down his pants in an attempt to have a penis. 

One by one, you told people - your friends, Spencer’s team, then teachers and the principal, and so on and so forth until you were telling anyone who asked about your “daughter.” A few of the acquaintances made faces, so Spencer and yourself made a mental note to never return to these people, and there was one teacher that put up opposition to calling your son by his rightful name, but you’d insisted, saying that if your child came home and told them otherwise, there would be hell to pay. 

Eventually, your 40-pound, kickass, wild and free, amazing little boy was living as such. Everyone was calling him Logan (with the occasional admitted slip-up now and then). His Auntie Garcia had thrown him a party with all his friends, mostly boys and a couple of girls. Since there was no gender-neutral bathroom in the school, the principal had allowed him to use hers. 

“How was school Logan?” Spencer screamed out from the bedroom once your son had walked in the door. 

“Good! Aiden and I played soccer at recess.” Aiden was his best friend - one who stood up to all the bullies that tried to call Logan a girl. With Aiden’s help and the swiftness of school personnel, the bullying died down quickly.

The deal you’d made with him when he started school all together was that he would sit down at the table as soon as he got home to do his homework. Very rarely did he try and do anything otherwise. As soon as he walked in, he went to the refrigerator, asked for a glass, poured himself some milk and sat down at the table. You were so proud of him. “I love you, Logan.”

“I love you, too, Mom,” he said. “And you too, Dad.”

Spencer came to stand at your side, his hand grabbing yours to pull you against his shoulder. “And Logan?” he asked, making sure your son caught his eye. “We’re proud of you too. Always.”


End file.
